ODE IX.
[Goe, dote, fond Lover; Seeke]
1
Goe, dote, fond Lover; Seeke
(To smooth lascivious Rhime)
Some beautie, where Sublime
Graces adorne the Cheeke;
Court Lips, or Eyes,
Or what you prise,
With most Affection, as you can devise.
2
And see how long they please
The flitting Sence, with Ioy;
Either they kill or Cloy,
And aggravate Disease;
Noe reall good
Is vnderstood,
Where the maine obiect is but Flesh and Blood.
3
But if you would behold
A Beautie to Entice;
Revert your pur-blind Eyes;
Too blind, and yet too bold.
I'le Shew you here,
In her true Sphere,
Perfection, crownéd in a golden Chaire.
4
'Gainst which the Rage of Time
Could never yet prevaile;
Nor doth She want the Haile
Of Poets, in a Rhime;
Remaining yonge,
Although she sprunge
Ere Time, the Chaos into Forme had flung.
5
Nor Shall you need to bring
Attributes to her praise;
For her Aspect will raise
A Store too vast to Singe;
Such as would pose
Art to disclose
In any verse, and fill a Rheme of Prose.
6
This is that Beautie which
Strikes dead all humane Sence;
From whose sole Influence,
All Creatures are made rich;
And what wee praise,
Soe manie waies,
Are but light Sparkes, shot from these liveing raies.
7
Bring, bring the loftie verse,
And Sonnet out your Dayes;
Let everie word be praise,
And everie Accent peirce
The Ears of Men
With wonder; when
You faile, goe to this Source and fill your Pen.
8
Here, never Ending Love,
Runns in a liveing Streame;
Peace sitts vnder the Beame
Of Glorie; all that move
Is holie here:
Pale Doubt and ffeare
Exiléd are, and Envie comes not neare.
9
The witts who sung of old
Their feilds of lasting pleasure,
Meant this; though in some measure,
(Perhaps) it would not hold;
For humane witt
Can onlie ffitt,
The Sence with Ioy; Soe much they failed of it.
10
Bring in fresh Chaplets: Crowne
Her, worthy all your praise;
And mightie Rapture raise
To sing her Name; lay downe
Your brittle Theame,
Caught in a Dreame,
And raise a Character, in her great name.
